A Tomboy Living With Boys

[COMPLETED]
•I'm Sam McClain and I am a stereotypical, tomboy.
My dad works a lot, work trips which go on for months at times.
My mom died recently and my dad ships me off to live with his work pal... who has a few sons.
This is my story of how my l...

Chapter 9: Broken wrist?

Picture of Sam's cast - cause you know, you really need to get the idea of what it looks like (note the sarcasm)

•*•*•*•*•

A Tomboy Living With The Boys

Chapter 9: Broken wrist?

"I'm open!" I yell at Jake with the ball on the other side of the goalie box.

The score is 1-2 to my team. We don't have that long until the end but it has started raining again and the field is getting yet another layer of mud.

Jake passes a perfect pass to me and I receive it easily.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a person in the opposite team's colours; poop green and yellow. Whoever chose those colours must of had a death wish.

I make a quick move to defend the ball. I hear the player who was out to get me, slip on the mud behind me.

I smirk to myself. I set myself up for a goal and as I reach my leg backwards gaining momentum I kick the ball but I drag my foot across the mud a few centimeters in front of the ball so I end up flipping backwards, still managing to kick the ball.

I put my wrist out behind me to keep me from falling in the mud but that just makes things worse.

I feel a shot of pain throughout my right wrist as it lands against the squelching mud.

Stupid mud.

Whoever invented rain and dirt to cause mud must have not played any sport played on grass or dirt in their life.

Or they didn't even test walking on mud first.

I don't even get to think about the pain in my wrist because the next thing I hear is a huge siren signalling the end of the game.

I never got that goal.

Bumcakes.

Jake comes over to me and puts his hand out.

I reject it. Ha, don't take offence to that little Jake but I think I'm alright to get off the ground even with a slightly sore wrist.

As soon as I stand up straight, he gets the hint that I didn't need his help and his hand retreats back to his side.

"You alright there?" he asks as we go to shake hands with the opposing team.

"I didn't get that goal!" I poke out my bottom lip kind of jokingly because we still won.

He laughs and shakes his head at me then started shaking hands with the muddy defender who slipped behind me.

Ha you look like you're covered in poop.

Wait, I probably look like that too.

Someone extends their hand out to me but I just curtly nod, not only not wanting to touch him but my wrist still stings from the fall.